Don’t miss the frights and fun at a Halloween sleepover you’ll never forget in this scary Creepover tale. Abby Miller is having a Halloween sleepover with her best friends. They’ll go trick-or-treating and then come back to Abby’s house to discover their destinies on her spirit board. But the prophecy the board tells Abby and her friends has nothing to do with crushes, grades, or even the distant future. Instead, the board spells out a warning: Z-O-M-B-I-E. Zombies are real…and they are coming for them! This terrifying tale is rated a Level 5 on the Creep-O-Meter. A lifelong night owl, P.J. Night often works furiously into the wee hours of the morning, writing down spooky tales and dreaming up new stories of the supernatural and otherworldly. Although P.J.’s whereabouts are unknown at this time, we suspect the author lives in a drafty, old mansion where the floorboards creak when no one is there and the flickering candlelight creates shadows that creep along the walls. We truly wish we could tell you more, but we’ve been sworn to keep P.J.’s identity a secret…and it’s a secret we will take to our graves! It Spells Z-O-M-B-I-E! Emily Evans leaned close to the mirror, holding her breath in an attempt to be perfectly still. With a long, graceful swoop she dusted sparkly silver eye shadow onto her eyelids. She paused, blinked, and stared at her reflection. Not bad, she thought. And if a little is good . . . Emily reached for a powder brush and dusted more eye shadow on her face—her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, everywhere. It was Halloween, after all, the best day of the year for crazy makeup—and crazy fun! Emily had been planning her costume for weeks. It was her first Halloween since she and her mom had moved to Riverdale, and Emily couldn’t wait to go trick-or-treating with her new friends Abby Miller, Leah Rosen, and Nora Lewis. At last, the big day was finally here. In just a few minutes, Emily would walk over to Abby’s house for trick-or-treating and the best sleepover ever! “Knock, knock!” Emily made a face as her mom’s voice carried through the closed bathroom door. She always did that—called out “Knock, knock,” instead of just knocking like a normal person. It didn’t used to bother Emily that much, but now it drove her kind of crazy. “Almost done, Mom,” Emily called back. “Can’t wait to see you in costume, Alien Queen!” Mom replied. Emily did one more check in the full-length mirror. Her reflective silver tunic sparkled in the bright lights of the bathroom vanity. On every inch of skin—hands, arms, face, even neck—she had smeared a thick green makeup base. The silver eye shadow on top made her sparkle every time she moved! But Emily’s favorite part of her costume was her hair. She had twisted it into a dozen braids, then sprayed each one with enough glitter hair spray to make them stand straight out from her head. Her shiny braids looked awesome, like razor-sharp tentacles. And now, for the very last part of Emily’s costume . . . She carefully placed a gleaming metallic tiara on her head. It was a little wobbly, but Emily resolved to be careful. Besides, the glitter spray had made her hair feel really sticky. Hopefully it would help the tiara stick too. Emily took a deep breath, then flung open the bathroom door. “Ta-da!” she cried as she struck a pose with one arm held high. Mom beamed. “Oh, Emily! Look at you!” she exclaimed. “Take me to your leader!” “Hey, that’s my line!” Emily joked. “I can’t wait to post a picture of you!” Mom replied, fumbling for her phone. Emily stood against the wall and made a scowling face. “No, honey, smile,” Mom urged her. “You look so pretty when you smile!” “I’m an alien queen orchestrating a hostile take-over. Why would I smile?” Emily pointed out. “Just one? For Grandma and Grandpa?” Mom pleaded. Emily sighed, then made a giant, toothy grin. It was a totally sarcastic smile, but Mom didn’t seem to notice as she took about a billion pictures with her phone. “Look at your hair, defying gravity!” Mom marveled. “How’d you get it to stick out like that?” “Half a bottle of extra-hold gel and four cans of glitter hair spray,” Emily replied. Mom’s smile faded. “That much?” she asked, sounding worried. “But honey, that’s going to be very hard to wash out! It could take days!” Emily shrugged—but inside she felt a twinge of panic. She hadn’t thought about that before. What if she had to go to school on Monday looking like this? Even worse—what if it took weeks for her hair to get back to normal? “Too late to worry about it now,” Emily said, putting her fears aside. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I don’t want to hold up trick-or-treating.” “Have a great time,” Mom said, trailing after Emily down the hall. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Emily’s overnight bag, sleeping bag, and pillow were already waiting by the front door. “Nope,” Emily replied as she scooped everything into her arms. “I’ve got it.” “Remember to stick wi